Harry Potter and the Price Of Fame
by Kuhal
Summary: AU. Snape was a Marauder. Pettigrew, a hero. Sirius was never in Azkaban. However, Harry still was left at the Dursley's, and he finds out the Price Of Fame.
1. Prologue

**Harry Potter and the Price Of Fame  
><strong>

**Disclaimer - I own nothing. All belongs to JKR, with the exception of my OC's.**

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><p><strong><em>Prologue<em>**

Severus Snape was conflicted, even if his body language would never show it. He was told of his importancefrom both the people he was following orders from. He knew he would never truly be evil, but he could see the possible outcomes if he didn't follow direct orders from the Dark Lord. He may attain riches, but he would be branded a traitor for the rest of his life, and it may cost him the only five people he ever truly cared about.

Severus, as a child, was adamant about his desire to be in Slytherin. But, in its seemingly infinite knowledge, the Sorting Hat placed him in the one House he did NOT want to be sorted in to. Gryffindor. The conversation with the Hat that he had was rather interesting, as it told him of his need for friends. He could, and would, not do that in Slytherin, or even Ravenclaw. And, he was not a Hufflepuff. His indecision as to whether or not he would not betray his friends was a perfect example of this.

Nevertheless, he didn't get along with his fellow Gryffindor first years, with the exemption of the girl he occasionally talked to from his neighbourhood. The other four boys treated him with differing opinions. The small, lumpy boy was deadly scared of him. The brown haired, scarred boy was indifferent, but avoided him. And the two black haired boys treated him like an animal. Ironic, when he looked back on it.

As Severus contemplated his position, he heard the pop of his accomplice. He saw the rodent-looking man across the street give him a discreet nod, and, returning it, they both spun at the same time, arriving at their destination. Godric's Hollow.

As he touched down, feeling slightly ill from the feeling of Apparating, he strode next to his co-conspirator. Without a word, the man with him, dressed in a three-piece suit and Rolex, and Severus, his cloak billowing behind them, quickly caught up to their supposed 'Master'.

"Ah, Severus, I'm glad to see you. I was beginning to wonder if you would turn up. Believe me, you have made the right decision," Voldemort said, an evil smile on his face.

Severus nodded. "Believe me, my Lord, I would not miss this moment for the world," he replied, the same smile on his face.

Voldemort nodded in response. "Very good, Severus," he very nearly whispered, and turned to the other man. "Is everything as planned?"

The man nodded, slightly shaken. "Y-yes, my Lord."

"Excellent! Let us go. Not long from here, I assume?"

Both men, with differing tones of voice, replied, "No, my Lord," and they walked along-side Lord Voldemort, at a rather alarming pace. Severus, still undecided, used the time to ponder his position, while still paying attention to whether the Dark Lord would ask him more questions. His friends knew of his position as a spy, but would he risk his life for them? He valued his life, without a doubt, however, he had long ago realised he was not the one to finish this. Clenching his fist, he remembered his punishment for failing to retrieve all of the Prophecy. He was still walking with a slight limp, and probably would for the rest of his days. He knew that the cold-blooded murderer beside him was not worth his life. His friends were.

Arriving at their destination, Lord Voldemort strode ahead of them by a few steps, and addressed the party of people opposing him. "Ah, a welcoming party. How... Amusing. However, nothing can stop me. The boy must die, and I will not stop until-"

"NEVER!" All four of the people that stood, pointing their wands at the Dark Lord, cried out.

Lord Voldemort only chuckled. "Again, you amuse me. You see, I am not alone," he said, as his two followers appeared out of the shadows. Again, he chuckled. "Now, my servants. Attack them!"

With a nod to each other, they stepped in front of their Master wands raised. As they walked forward, they turned on Voldemort, wands at him, and joined his friends. Severus was on the right side, he was sure.

He saw Voldemort frown, for merely a second. And then, adopted an impassive expression. "I see. Well, this will be... Rather more difficult," he acknowledged. Facing against him were the fabled kinship. The six people that, together, could possibly overpower him. The Marauders.

Peter Pettigrew, no longer acting frightened, stood on the far left, a confident smirk on his face, and was fiddling with a ring-like object. Next to him, Remus Lupin, also smirking, was in a fighting stance. However, Voldemort could see the hatred in the man's eyes as he stared at his parents' murderer. Lily Potter, next to him, was looking at the Dark Lord with anger in those dreaded emerald-green eyes. Her husband was by her side, with a similar look of rage, was panting heavily in his anger. Sirius Black, next to them, was, too, looking at Voldemort with anger in his eyes. But, his whole face was contorted in anger. And then, there was Severus. Severus Snape was looking at his former master with a look of indifference. All of the six Marauders had their wands raised, and were pointed at his chest.

"I never thought this day would come," he sneered, not impressed by the group, "But, at least, tonight, you will all die. Some," he glanced at his former servants, "More painfully than others."

Pettigrew snorted, and said, "Whatever you say, Tom."

Voldemort snapped. No one called him his filthy, mundane name. It reminded him of his imperfect blood. "HOW DARE YOU! _MICO__FLAMMA_!"

A flash of bright light blinded the seven people in the area for several minutes and, when the light dimmed away, all that could be seen of the body of Peter Pettigrew was finger, which saw ablaze. It quickly was reduced to ashes.

The remaining five were shocked, and their enemy took advantage of their lapse in concentration. He screamed, "AVADA KEDAVRA! AVADA KEDAVRA!" as he pointed at Lily and James.

The two Potters, too shocked to move, were struck and enveloped in a flash of green light, first James then Lily. They both screamed, "HARRY!" and fell to the ground. Quickly, Voldemort used a wide-area stunning charm, and Apparated in to the house behind them.

Upon entering the house, he proceeded to stride quickly towards the room where the young boy of Potter was left. The traitorous fool, Pettigrew, gave him a complete layout of the Potter home. As he entered the room, and saw the child in the crib, he smirked. "At last, the Prophecy will be fulfilled. I will be all powerful. Goodbye, Harry Potter. AVADA KEDAVRA!" he yelled.

However, Voldemort did not expect the next development. The spell bounced back. _Impossible!_he thought, the green light consuming him instead. As his world flashed between green and black, the Dark Lord, Voldemort, swore revenge on Harry Potter.

For three hours, the only remaining Potter cried in pain. He was alone, with a sharp pain on his forehead. It wasn't until the three remaining Marauders and the illustrious Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft And Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore, entered the room, did he begin to calm down.

"Sirius, Remus, Severus, I'm truly sorry. I know how close you all were," Albus said to the three men, who were weeping openly at the sight of the only remaining link to two of their fallen friends, "but a decision must be made. Severus, is what we discussed earlier fine by you?"

Severus, teary eyed, nodded, not saying a word. In thirty seconds, six had been reduced to three. He lost three of his best friends, and was left with two, for which he was glad. He knew that he, Remus and Sirius were lucky that Voldemort didn't kill them. He was too interested in removing the two who defied him three times, and killing the boy. They, as spares, weren't necessary deaths. No doubt he planned to finish the job when he returned from killing Harry.

As he looked at the child that was eyeing him with curiosity, he thought of the lives lost. Of course, for James and Lily's life, he felt he was to blame. But, Peter did something he couldn't. The Potter's had long ago accepted their deaths as necessary for the Wizarding World, but Peter did the unthinkable. By angering the Dark Lord, he had sacrificed himself to ensure only Lily and James would die. As stupid as he thought Peter's plan was, Severus knew that it was sound in concept, and he would forever owe his life to Peter Pettigrew.

By this point, Albus had finished explaining Harry's future arrangements to Remus and Sirius. Severus could tell that Remus had a look of acceptance on his face, but was not happy about the decision. Sirius, however, was irate. "WHAT? Albus, no! I am Harry's godfather! He deserves to live with me!"

Albus shook his head, and spoke calmly, "I agree, Sirius. However Severus, Lily and I discussed this, and we all agreed that, however unpopular this decision may be, it is best for Harry's wellbeing. Lily convinced James, and it is in the will now. There is nothing I, or you, can do now."

Sirius wiped the tears from his eyes, looking down in defeat. "I... I guess you're right. Are you sure he will be safe?"

Severus spoke up, his voice breaking with every word, "Sirius, he will be the safest possible. I assure you of that."

Remus, who had been silent since Albus revived him, spoke up. "As long as he is safe, we must accept this, right Sirius?" he said softly, patting his friend on the back.

Sirius looked at him, and whispered "Moony...If you agree, it's the right thing to do."

Albus nodded. "Sirius, I need you to transport Harry to Privet Drive. Severus, you, Remus and I can Portkey. Thirty minutes on the motorbike, yes?" he asked, and, with Sirius' nod, he pulled a rope out of his cloak, pointed his wand at it and whispered "_Portus_," and, in a flash, all but Sirius and Harry were gone.

As Severus waited with Albus and Remus, he wondered what would happen now. Surely, everyone in Wizarding Britain now knew of the Dark Lord's downfall, and were celebrating. He knew he would not. He, Lupin and Black would most likely go separate ways to grieve. He knew that all three would never be the same after this day. He was particularly distressed with Lily's and Peter's death. Not to say that James' death did not sadden him, but Lily was his first friend, and Peter was the only person he trusted for months. So, he sat on a bench, and cried. Remus, next to him, did the same thing.

Albus, who stood in front of them, seemingly did not acknowledge that they were mourning, and stood in silence until the roar of the motorcycle could be heard. Remus stood up, and Severus quickly followed. Minutes later, a blank-faced Sirius Black touched down and, like handling china, he cautiously picked up the sleeping infant from the side-car. If he could think straight, Severus would have wondered how a child could fall asleep in such a loud vehicle. But all he could think about was the boy's safety. So, with a flourish he said, "_Cruor__ Tutela_," and the blood wards that took months of setting up were activated.

The four wizards, Sirius carrying Harry, walked to the front of Number 4, Privet Drive, and whispered to the sleeping child, "I'm sorry, pup. It's for your own good," and pecked the child on the forehead.

Remus leant in and he, too, kissed the boy on his forehead, and whispered, "Farewell, cub. I'll miss you."

Severus, lost for words, simulated his friends by kissing the infant's head, and Albus too kissed the child without saying a word. Sirius, now teary-eyed, placed the boy on the doorstep, as Albus placed a letter on him, addressed to _Mr__and__Mrs__Dursley,__Number__4,__Privet__Drive_. Sirius traced the lightning bolt on the boys forehead, whispering, "Farewell, Harry James Potter."

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><p><strong>Author's Note - I hope you enjoy my take on the story. I always wanted to portray Pettigrew as a hero, rather than a villain. I know he is a little OOC, but this is MY Peter. He will have a major role, as will Sirius and Remus. Severus as a Marauder was another idea I truly liked, so I decided to make him one. Also, Lily is an unofficial Marauder, through Prongs. Just clarifying.<strong>

**I hope you enjoy Price Of Fame. I have a basic outline, but I'm winging it mostly. Never underestimate the power of improvisation. Anyway, I'll try to update regularly. Please review!**

**_Kuhal_**


	2. Chapter 1: Different

**Harry Potter and the Price Of Fame  
><strong>

**Disclaimer - I own nothing. All belongs to JKR, with the exception of my OC's.**

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 1: Different<strong>_

Harry Potter was different. He knew that for sure. How, or why, he didn't know. No one else he knew saw the things he saw. Strange people in robes staring at him as he walked through the streets. Big, black shaggy dogs following him home from school. Faint twinges in the lightning bolt scar that had always been on his forehead. He didn't know why he attracted these odd occurrences. All he knew was that he wasn't normal.

For eleven years, he had to tolerate these unexplained abnormal happenings and he seemed to remember each encounter most vividly. When he was only seven, a tall blonde-haired, cloak-clad man who was asking him a whole bunch of random questions about his scar, some Lord, and his opinion on snorkels or something. All he could remember was that the man represented a newspaper of some kind, and his name started with 'Z'.

Another man with brown hair, scars all over his face and dressed in normal clothes, seemed to appear almost every year on Halloween and Christmas, and always said hello to Harry. Some years, the man seemed a sickly pale, but his smile was always beaming whenever he saw Harry. His name was never mentioned during any of these chance meetings.

There were others, of course. The man with the top hat. The man with the long blonde hair and cane. The older lady with a vulture on her hat and a boy around Harry's age attached to her leg. The red-headed ones. The one with the monocle. The man who reminded him of a lion, who walked with a slight limp. The lady with the stern look on her face, scrutinizing him from behind her glasses. For some reason, even though the stares and smiles mad him uneasy, he felt he had a connection with these people. But that was silly. He didn't wear cloaks. He didn't have top hats, monocles, or scars all over his face. He was just Harry Potter. Just Harry.

For his eleven years at Number 4, Privet Drive, he'd learnt a few things. One, don't eat excessively, or you'll have a heart attack. His Uncle Vernon was never kind to him in the slightest. Uncle Vernon at least tolerated Harry, most preferably from a distance. Despite this, he was still his uncle, and when Harry was nine years old Uncle Vernon died of a severe heart attack, Harry was saddened immensely. Even though he was there when Vernon's body was found in his study, his grief was nothing compared to that of his aunt and cousin.

Aunt Petunia, after Uncle Vernon's death, locked herself in her room and cried for a week, leaving Harry and a grief-stricken Dudley under the care of a woman called Mrs Figg who came to the house each day, even though Harry couldn't tell when Aunt Petunia had asked her to. Harry heard her tell someone once that she felt empty inside. Like a piece of her heart was torn out. Despite what people said about how abnormally normal Vernon and Petunia Dursley were they were most certainly in love. The one thing they adamantly disagreed about, however, was Harry.

Harry knew he was never his uncles' favourite person, but Aunt Petunia was a different story. For reasons unknown to Harry, he was treated like an equal by his aunt. Not like family; more like a permanent guest. However, he didn't have a room. His uncle's study was a prominent feature in Number 4, and Vernon refused to remove his sanctuary, not even as a second room for Dudley's never ending pile of toys. Even after Vernon died, the room stayed the same; Petunia refused to empty, or even change the room, as constant reminder of her dead husband. Vernon wanted to force Harry into the cupboard under the stairs, but Petunia refused to let her nephew sleep anywhere she wouldn't. Harry, usually, slept on the lounge, which was fine by him. At least he was never kept under the stairs.

Dudley, however reacted differently. Firstly, he was stronger than Petunia. He didn't get depressed or upset, he just became, strangely detached. Secondly, he started to deviate from the Vernon-like path he was taking; he ate healthier, he exercised, but most prominently, he treated Harry better. He started treating his cousin liked his mother did, as if he was no more than a house guest that never left. He even let Harry play with his toys, which was unprecedented.

Harry didn't know why these thoughts were going through his mind. The images of all the strangers greeting him, his uncle's unusually pale face as he lay motionless on the carpeted floor of the study, the first time Dudley had let Harry play with a toy robot, all flooded his memory like a tsunami. Shaking his head to rid his mind of his recollections, he decided he'd get the mail for his aunt, who was cooking the family breakfast.

Harry walked past the cupboard under the stairs, and then stopped. He remembered, before Vernon died, whenever Dudley was being particularly mean to his cousin, Harry would always seek refuge in the cupboard. The place was supposedly haunted, Dudley's friend Piers said, so they steered clear of it. What they didn't know was that it was Harry banging on the stairs and howling.

Harry smiled as he walked into the small space. He knew that he shouldn't, but he missed it. Not for why he used it, but for the solitude, the feeling of being alone. As he sat on the makeshift seat – a spare wooden box – he heard a faint squeak. Harry's eyes lit up.

As he searched the floor with his eyes, and instantly found him. Looking up at him with small, beady eyes was his first friend; a friend he thought was lost forever. "Wormtail!" Harry whispered happily.

Whenever Harry was hiding in the cupboard, Harry would see the rat. The rat's eyes never left him, even when he was leaving. At first, Harry was nervous around the rodent, as he thought a rat living in this house was unsanitary, but, as time went on, Harry grew attached to the little guy, and ended up naming him Wormtail. The name, as far as Harry knew, came from nowhere, but was quite fitting.

However, after Uncle Vernon's heart attack, Harry didn't need the cupboard anymore. He forgot about Wormtail up until this point, and was saddened by the fact that, for nearly two years, his tiny friend was alone. Deciding to redeem himself, he picked the brown rat up, and put him in his pocket. "I'm sorry, little guy," Harry said sadly, "but I'll look after you from now on, okay?"

Feeling Wormtail getting snug in his pants pocket, Harry continued with his self assigned task of retrieving the mail. As he picked up the mail, he heard another faint squeak from his rodent companion, and smiled. Walking back to the kitchen, where he could smell the breakfast Aunt Petunia was cooking, he sorted through the mail, and, at the bottom of the rather large pile, he found a letter addressed to him.

Now, that _was _strange. Harry never got mail. The sight of the pale white envelope with his name on it written in green ink filled his heart with something like hope. Hope that somebody actually cared.

He left the other letters on the table, and looked at his letter.

_Mr H. Potter  
>The Lounge<br>4 Privet Drive  
>Little Whinging<br>Surrey_

The accuracy of the letter's address worried Harry. What if it was a stalker? Or one of those strange cloaked people who stared at him? Harry was slightly frightened by the letter, but eventually decided to open it.

"What have you got, Harry?" Harry looked up to see his Aunt Petunia looking down at him, craning her overly long neck to get a good look at the letter in his hand.

"Just a letter, Aunt Petunia," he responded as casually as possible.

"A letter?" she asked in a strangely nervous tone. "From who?"

"Uh... I don't know, Aunt Petunia," Harry replied, looking over the picture, seeing only a large H stamp on the back, and the address.

"May I see it?" Aunt Petunia asked, looking quite worried.

Harry looked at his pale Aunt, quite perplexed about her reaction to a simple letter. _Maybe she's worried about the same things I am_, Harry thought. "Here."

She grabbed the letter with a shaking hand, and inspected every part of the envelope, looking longer at the stamp, before handing the letter back to Harry. "Harry, whatever that letter tells you, I... I didn't want to... Vernon said..."

"Aunt Petunia? Are you okay?" Harry asked, looking his Aunt in the eyes.

"Just remember Harry," Petunia started, tears in her eyes, "I'm only human. I made a mistake. I... I'm sorry, Harry." She then left the kitchen in a rush, crying openly for the first time that Harry could remember since his uncle's death. He looked warily at the letter, the feeling of dread filling his chest once again.

Harry had not been this scared since before his uncle died, and he had dreams. Not nice dreams. Nightmares.

He saw people. He saw one of them men who he saw staring at him, the man with the scars. A bearded man who reminded him of a dog. A smiling, chubby, wiry haired man who had a calming effect on Harry. A greasy haired man with a hooked nose whose smile didn't seem to suit him, but was present all the same. And a red haired woman, with bright green eyes like his. The six of them were standing around Harry, smiling down at him. Then, a green light filled Harry's vision, and a high pitched laugh, followed by darkness and a faint sobbing. And Harry always awoke drenched in sweat with his scar prickling.

But after his uncle's death, Harry stopped having these dreams. He was shocked by this, thinking he was scared by his uncle. But, he eventually figured that he was traumatized by his uncle's anger towards him, and his death relieved that.

Harry was shaking as he attempted to open his letter. He had the envelope unsealed, and closed his eyes as he took out the letter inside.

Opening his eyes, he couldn't believe what he read.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Harry Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry . Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Professors Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputies Headmaster and Headmistress_

Harry stared, shocked. _Witchcraft? Wizardry? What?_

Suddenly, the front door flew open, and Petunia cried out in shock.

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><p><strong>AN:**** Hi! About time I updated! I know it's short, but that's just my writing style. I can't write a seven thousand word epic of a chapter like my brother, but I can still write. Hopefully.**

**I hope you enjoyed my first real chapter! I shall award a jar of nothing to anyone who can name all character alluded to in this chapter. Also, I'm gonna need the jar back.**

**I hope to update more often from here on out, but until then, please take the time to read Beletrium's stuff! He's really good!**

**Peace,**

**Kuhal**


	3. Chapter 2: Gold

01/08/2012

Chapter 2: Realization

Harry heard his Aunt Petunia scream in the hall as the door flung open. He quickly rushed to out the kitchen door and into the hall to see what the problem was and saw his Aunt cowering slightly in front of a man slightly taller than her. He had greasy, long black hair, and a hooked nose. He seemed to be glaring at Petunia, but looked over at Harry. The man smiled in a way that seemed a little strange, and Harry remembered him from his old dreams.

The man walked over to him. Harry noticed his clothes while he walked. He had a long, black trench coat that he swept when he started walking, and a dark purple buttoned shirt underneath, with black dress pants. He continued towards Harry, his awkward looking smile growing with each step. He eventually stopped in front of Harry, smiling down at him.

"Hello, Harry. I know that I probably did not have to come as early as I did, but I insisted with Albus that you needed all the information as soon as possible. Harry, do you know who I am?" the man asked in a silky, though not unkind, voice and Harry shook his head slowly. The man's eyes hardened slightly, and continued. "Of course not. I did not expect so. Am I to understand you received a letter this morning?" Harry nodded again.

"Yes, I did," Harry replied. "Only a minute ago, actually. How could you know that? Who are you?" Aunt Petunia, Harry noticed, had composed herself now that the man was not looking at her, though she was extremely pale. More so than usual. The man looked to the letter still clutched in Harry's hand.

"Does any of this make any sense to you at all, Harry?" the man asked. Harry could only shake his head.

"Not a lot of it, no," Harry responded. "It talks about 'witchcraft' and 'owls' and a school, but witchcraft isn't real. This has to be fake." The man's eyes hardened again and he turned to Petunia, who shied away. The man turned back to Harry.

"No, witchcraft and wizardry is very much real," the man said quietly. "You are a wizard."

"I'm a what?" Harry asked, in shock. "A wizard? As in...magic?"

"All of this is a surprise? Yes," the man nodded as he spoke, as if answering his own question. "Harry, I know that you must think all of this strange, but think of the evidence. Has anything every seemed unordinary, like it should not have happened at all?"

Harry had to look down in embarrassment. To tell the truth, he had a long list of unexplainable occurrences he could easily pass off as magic. Making flowers dance, creating powerful winds in a park, healing injured birds by wishing they were better, running at extremely high speed to get away from Dudley and his gang. But was magic really the reason, or was it all just coincidence?

The taller man noticed his confusion, and decided to continue. "Harry, what do you know of your parents?" Harry's eyes snapped up quickly and met the steely grey eyes of he man in front of him.

"My parents? They were killed in a car crash when I was young, sir. I don't know anything else," he said sadly, hoping silently that this stranger could shed some light on this topic, even though he probably knew nothing. The man didn't seem to hear Harry's plea, he turned swiftly to Aunt Petunia, staring her down again.

"A car crash, Petunia? That was your explanation? She was your sister!" the man yelled, frightening Harry. "Your sister, Petunia! You should have told him! Harry should know how they died!"

Petunia had tears streaming down her face as she struggled to answer to the strangers' anger. "I know... But Vernon said-"

"Oh, so it is that fat Muggle oaf's fault that your own _nephew_ is unaware that his parents were murdered by the Dark Lord?" The anger that this man was displaying was beyond anything Harry had ever seen, yet he didn't really comprehend that as he was shocked by the last statement.

"What? Murdered? Dark Lord? What do you mean?" Harry asked quickly, not seeing the tears forming in the strange man's eyes.

"Harry, I do not think that today is the right time for that. Before today, perhaps. But not now. Perhaps some day before school." He wiped his eyes, and turned back to Harry. "Harry, before we continue, do you have any questions?" Harry thought for a second, and looked up at the now red-eyed man.

"Um... What's your name?" he asked, feeling stupid. The man laughed, and looked down at Harry once again.

"My apologies, Harry. I had hoped you would remember me, but I guess I must introduce myself. I am Professor Severus Snape, Deputy Headmaster and Potions Master of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," the man, Professor Snape, answered, extending his pale white hand. Harry took Snape's hand, and looked up at him.

"I'm Harry Potter. Did you know my parents?" Harry asked, remembering the man's outburst towards his aunt. Professor Snape laughed again at the eagerness Harry was showing.

"Yes, Harry. I was one of their best friends." Harry looked at the man, slightly in shock, and waited for more information. "There were six of us. Myself, Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and your parents, James and Lily Potter," he said, ignoring the sob that came from Petunia when Lily's name was mentioned. "We were close for so long. Then, one night... Well, as I said before, not for today. Harry, is there anything magic related you wish to ask? We can discuss your parents later, I promise."

Harry had no idea why, but he seemed to implicitly trust this man. He said he was a close friend of his parents. And, he was a representative from the school he had just received a letter from. He had no choice, really. "Professor, is magic real? I mean, truly real?"

Severus nodded, as if expecting this response, and removed a small, empty vial out of his coat pocket, and a wooden stick that had strange symbols etched into it out of his pants pocket. He pointed his stick thing at the glass bottle, and spoke clearly, "_Engorgio_." The vial grew in size until it was at least double its normal size. Harry was speechless, but the demonstration was far from over. Severus flicked his stick and spoke again, "_Winguardium Leviosa_," and the bottle floated into the air, following wherever Snape's stick was pointed, and was flown around the hall. Harry stood with his mouth slightly ajar, staring in disbelief. "Sufficient enough for you, Harry?"

Harry nodded, and asked a string of questions, all of which were swiftly answered by Professor Snape. Finally, Harry was asked a question by Snape.

"Harry, you and I should go to get your supplies now. Is that quite alright with you?" Harry looked at the professor, utterly confused. _What supplies?_ Harry thought to himself, as he nodded dumbly. "Come. We will not be long."

Harry followed his new professor out the door, neither of them speaking a word to the still sobbing Petunia Dursley, even though Harry felt a slight bit of guilt. He was part of the reason he was crying, after all, and he and Professor Snape just walked by as if she wasn't there. Harry saw a nice looking car outside the house, and assumed it was the professors.

Harry was correct apparently as Professor Snape walked right up to the car and unlocked it, opening the passenger seat door for the eleven year old boy. Harry got in the car, and went to buckle in his seatbelt. However, he was interrupted by Professor Snape, who was now sitting in the driver's seat. "That will not be necessary, Harry. The car is a cover. The Muggles cannot see what happens inside here. To them, we are not here."

"How are we going to get to... Wait. Where are we going, sir?" Harry asked politely, despite his obvious confusion.

"You will see, Harry," Professor Snape said as he pulled out a set of car keys. "Hold these with me, please." Harry held the keys, his eyebrows furrowed. "The first time may be disorientating, but you should be fine. On the count of three. One... two... three." On three, Harry felt a tug at his navel as he began to spin, and landed on his back in a dark lit room.

"What was _that_?" Harry said, holding his head as he stood up.

"That, Harry, was a Portkey," Professor Snape said, standing above Harry, but not looking at him, instead looking around the room. Harry looked up and looked around, as the professor continued explaining. "It teleports us from one place to another. It can be anything, like a football. I used car keys. Conspicuous, you see?"

Harry nodded, but did not answer, as his eyes adjusted to the dark lit room. He saw men and women, all dressed in coats and odd headwear. Pointy hats, strange cap like things, and top hats. In fact, the man in the top hat looked strangely familiar...

"Oh, hello Severus!" said a friendly voice, as Harry stood up and brushed himself off. "Not every day you come in here!" Harry looked over, and flinched at the man he saw. He was smiling a toothless grin at Professor Snape; his bald head making him look like a nut of some sort.

"No, Tom. You are correct, is has been quite a while," Professor Snape replied politely. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a job to do." He pulled Harry by the shirt to a door that was not in the pub a moment ago, and dragged him outside.

"Um... Professor? Why were you rushing?" Harry asked as Professor Snape let go of his shirt, and drew his wand from his pocket.

"In about ten seconds, there are going to be at least thirty people racing after us, certain they saw Harry Potter. I thought we may do better with a head start."

_Why would they be chasing me?_ Harry thought, but watched as Professor Snape tapped some bricks on the wall in a hurry. The bricks moved, reforming their position to form an archway, and Professor Snape pulled Harry by the shirt once again. The bricks moved back in place, and Professor Snape let go of his shirt.

"No offence Professor, but could you at least try to ask me to move first?" Harry asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice as he straightened his shirt out.

Professor Snape laughed a strangely hearty laugh that drew the stares of many peculiarly dressed men and women around him, and said to Harry, "Sarcasm. Just like Lily."

Harry had a look around the cobbled area that Professor Snape had practically forced him into. The buildings along the street seemed disjointed, like they shouldn't fit together, yet did. There were buildings of all shapes and sizes, but the one that drew Harry's attention the most was the one that sat at the end of the strange street. A giant marble structure that towered over even the taller of the others, it seemed to sparkle with mystery.

"Harry." He turned to see Professor Snape staring intently at him. "First, I must say welcome to the heart of Wizarding London, Diagon Alley." Harry snickered, and Snape raised a hand. "Yes, you're mother was similar, as I suppose other Muggle-borns were. Our founders weren't the best with naming things. Or maybe they just enjoyed the use of puns. Nevertheless, while we are in the open, you must do as I say. You do not understand as of yet, but there are many people in this place that would love to see you. The majority would be pleased. The minority... Well, they would be less pleasant. I will protect you, but they will notice eventually. I would charm you, but I fear that they need to see you. I just loathe being the one who will be spotted with you," Snape sighed, and Harry could not tell if he was being serious or not. "First, we must go to Gringotts." And he walked directly towards the white marble building that Harry was enthralled by.

Harry was feeling excitement fill his insides as he followed his escort to the building. "What exactly is Gringotts, Professor?" he asked.

"A bank, Harry."

Harry felt saddened, like a balloon deflated inside him. "But sir, I have no money. My family is... Not that well off," he almost whispered, as if telling a secret.

Without turning around, Snape replied, "I think you may be pleasantly surprised." Harry looked up at the man, curious, and followed him inside. Harry saw some writing on the way in, and craned his neck to read it, but Snape put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't bother reading that sign, Harry. It'll give you a headache just trying to figure its meaning out. Basically, it says, 'do not steal from us, or we'll be very cross with you'. Personally, I believe that should be everyone's approach to theft, but I digress."

Harry entered the bank, and was surprised by the things that blocked his way. They were shorter then he was, with brown skin and pointed teeth. "What is your business here today, child?" one sneered at him, as Harry backed away in fright.

"Mister Harry Potter is here to retrieve money from his vault," Professor Snape said from beside him. The change was immediate. The strange beings both looked gobsmacked, then straightened up.

"Of course. My apologies, Mister Potter," the second creature said, and they moved out of the way. Professor Snape stepped forward, pushing Harry to do so as well. He walked through the hall, and looked around. There were more of the creatures, all counting strange coins, and looking down their unnaturally long noses at him. He shivered under their gaze.

"Goblins," Professor Snape whispered, as not to draw attention, but almost reading Harry's mind. "They're rather intelligent when it comes to economics. Never trust a goblin Harry. Slippery little things."

They reached the large desk at the front, where a goblin was waiting for them. "Hello, Professor Snape. This must be Harry Potter," he said. "My name is Griphook. I will be your guide today. Follow me."

Harry and Snape followed the small goblin into a backroom that contained only a cart. This cart was sized for a few passengers, so Harry got a lot of room to himself. Which was great, as the trip down made him feel ill.

There were so many twists and turns that Harry felt like he was going to throw up his entire stomach. He stepped off after what felt like twenty minutes of sharp turns and steep falls, and bent over to catch his breath. Professor Snape stood behind him, looking much the same as he did before. Griphook stood in front of them.

"Vault 687. Mister Potter, your key please," he said, holding a clawed hand out in front of him. Snape pulled a key out of his pocket. He dropped it in the outstretched hand of Griphook, who raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He slid one long fingernail down the centre of the door as Harry stood up straight. The key was put into the door, and Griphook pushed it open.

All Harry saw was a lot of gold.


End file.
